I Heart You
by MikuLover
Summary: (One-Sided Germany/Insane Italy) Maybe Italy had a different definition of friendship...a much more...sinister one.


**AN/: Let it be known that I love insane characters. SPREAD DA LOVE! **

**So here's some insane Italy, because for some reason, the idea of the sweet, adorable character turning vicious really intrigues me**.

* * *

Italy had always been a little too obsessive when it came to his friendship with Germany.

He followed him around, clung to his arm, snuggled up to him in bed and on the couch, and never seemed to leave him along for a second. To Germany, who had never had a friend before this, the whole relationship was a bit overpowering. He was the type of person who enjoyed spending time alone and relished the quiet moments he experienced during the day. Italy, however, seemed to have a different definition of fun.

_"Ve! Germany, let's go see the cherry blossoms with Japan!"_

_"Germany, let's go to the beach and swim!"_

_"Germany, there's a really scary movie out! I don't like them much, but I know you do, so let's go!" _

_"Hey, Germany! I found this really nice restaurant that serves all you can eat pasta! I bet I can eat more than you!" _

_"Oh look how pretty the fireflies are! Let's to catch them, Germany!" _

_"Germany...I couldn't sleep. Can I stay in your bed tonight?" _

_"Ve! Germany, let's get married so we'll be together forever!"_ okay, okay, so he had made the last one up, but the general idea was the same: Italy never wanted to leave Germany's side. Or rather...it seemed like he didn't want anyone else at Germany's side.

He hadn't noticed it at first, but now it was pretty evident that Italy thought he was the only one who deserved to be Germany's friend. It came to the point where it was almost a sort of obsession—at World Meetings, he would always ask to sit next to him or go up with him to the board. When a man or woman approached him on the street, Italy was there in the blink of an eye, clutching his arm and tittering like a young school girl. Germany couldn't even be alone with his brother Prussia without Italy materializing out of thin air. And it was starting to creep him out.

Lately, he had even started calling him while he was at work! In fact, earlier today he had called to ask him if they were still friends.

"Yes, Italy, of course we're still friends. Now, I have to work. Please stop calling me."

"Okay. We're friends. But who's your best friend?" there was a long, uncomfortable pause.

"If I say you, will you stop calling me?" Italy squealed on the other line, startling Germany.

"Oh! Thank you! You're my best friend too Germany! My BFF!"

"BFF?"

"Best...friend...forever..."

"Forever?"

"_Forever!_" he giggled as he said this, and then cleared his throat. "So...you like me a lot, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"More than...Japan and Prussia?" Germany was now thoroughly confused. This was getting weirder and weirder by the second.

"Um...I like you all the same, but in different ways."

"The same...but different ways..." Italy muttered, sounding as if he were trying to write it down or something. "Different...how?"

"W-well, Prussia's my brother. I love him because he's family and he practically raised me. Japan is my ally and my friend. He enjoys spending time with me and I enjoy spending time with him. And I like you because you're fun and you introduce me to new and fun things everyday." there was no response.

"You...you love Prussia...?" he asked, his voice hollow.

"Yes, he's family. I already said this."

"But you only like me and Japan."

"Italy, can I please go now?" Germany groaned, glancing towards the large pile of work on his desk. "I'm very busy putting pasta on your table!"

"Go." it wasn't an answer, response or even an option. It was a command. And a command coming from Italy was rather terrifying. "Come home soon, okay? I want to see you again!"

"Fine. Goodbye, Italia."

* * *

After waiting for Germany to hang up, Italy stood from his bed and glanced towards a picture he had framed. It sat jauntily upon his bedside table, displaying the Axis and Prussia out for dinner at one of Italy's favorite eateries, Nina's. Italy had taken it and made a copy for everyone, so they could all "remember the moment".

Germany was sitting next to Italy, looking sort of flustered, or maybe he was drunk. Italy couldn't remember which one it was. Japan was seated across from Italy, and next to Prussia, who had linked arms with his younger brother and was clinking his beer mug to his sibling's.

"So...you love him?" Italy muttered, his expression darkening. Germany loved Prussia. But he only liked Italy. "Why? He isn't ever there for you. He doesn't do the things I do for you. He doesn't love you like _I_ do."

Anger pulsed through his veins, a dull, hot anger. It buzzed at the back of his skull, clouding his thoughts and causing his left eye to twitch slightly.

"He doesn't ask you to do fun things. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't love you back!" he flung the picture against the wall with a small sob. Glass shattered and rained onto the wood-paneled floor, tinkling merrily like tiny church bells. "He doesn't love you like I DO!" Italy stomped on the picture frame, broken glass sticking in the bottoms of his bare feet. Blood splattered on the portrait with every violent motion. "_HE_..._DOESN'T_..._LOVE_..._YOU_!"

Panting, he fell to the ground, the bottoms of his feet dripping and burning with pain. The black and white photo was now smeared with crimson droplets.

Italy suddenly found the whole situation very funny. Oh, how funny it was! Germany was so silly! Why did he favor Prussia over Italy? Why didn't he choose him? Italy was a much better friend than Prussia—Prussia had never watched horror movies with Germany. Italy watched them all the time, even though he hated anything that was the least bit frightening. Prussia never made Germany dinner—but Italy made sure he came home to a warm meal each night of the week. Prussia never promised to be Germany's BFF.

"Forever...I'll love you forever." Italy murmured, his smile growing wider and more twisted with each passing second. "Tell me how much you love Prussia...I'll kill him and pack him up...so that you can love him..._forever_..."

* * *

Killing Prussia would be easy enough. He practically loved in the basement, and by the wide variety of colorful language spewing up the stairs, he was most likely playing video games. It would be easy to sneak up on him and just slit his throat, or crack his head open.

"Ninna nanna ninnaò questo amore a chi lo do. Lo do a te finché vivrò solo te io amerò!" Italy sang softly, as he pulled a pair of sewing scissors from the kitchen drawer. "Ninna nanna ninnaò questo amore a chi lo do. Lo do a te finché vivrò e a nessun altro lo darò!"

He crept quietly down the stairs, scissors in hand, ready to strike.

_Ninna nanna ninnaò, who do I give this love to?_

Prussia had his back turned towards him, and he didn't seem to have noticed the small Italian creeping up behind him. Perfect.

_I'll give it to you, 'cause for as long as I live, I'll only love you!_

He stood directly behind the couch, the scissors poised to strike. Prussia cursed and then leaned to the side as he attempted to fix the error he had made in his game.

_Ninna nanna ninnaò, who do I give this love to?_

A smile stretched across his face as he thrust his arm downwards, the scissors connecting to Prussia's head with a loud, slicing noise. There was an agonizing scream, and Prussia fell to the ground, blood gushing from the large, gaping wound in his skull. He thrashed and bucked on the ground, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Italy laughed sadistically as he watched Prussia writhe about on the floor. Blood sprayed in his own hair and over his own uniform, but there was nothing to be done about that. There was always bound to be some splash-back, right?

_I give it to you for as long as I live, and to no one else._

* * *

**AN/: Written late at night, so it probably sucks! :P**

**Anyways, whaddya think? Leave a review and let me know, 'kay?**

**MikuLover~ **


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